


Justification

by Mikauzoran



Series: Productive Procrastination Prompt Giveaway [9]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrien is not in a good place mentally sometimes, Adrinette, Aged-Up (19), Angst, Angst to Fluff to Happy Ending, Existential Crisis, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Happy Ending, Healing, Intrusive Thoughts, It is unclear whether or not Adrien is a sentimonster, Learning self-care, Love Confessions, Mental Health Issues, Moving On, No Adrien does not want to die and has no plans to do so, Or not. You can decide. I mean I purposely left that ambiguous., Post-Papillon Defeat, Post-Reveal Pre-Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Self-Esteem Issues, Sentimonster Adrien Agreste, Supportive Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, adrienette - Freeform, but he's going to be okay, letting go, supportive friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:08:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26922640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mikauzoran/pseuds/Mikauzoran
Summary: As Adrien struggles to find his footing in a post-Papillon world where his father is the supervillain he’s spent the past five years fighting, his mother is (for all intents and purposes) dead, and he himself is a sentimonster, Marinette is determined to prove that she loves him not in spite of but because of who he is.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Series: Productive Procrastination Prompt Giveaway [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1922590
Comments: 53
Kudos: 152





	Justification

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rafflesia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rafflesia/gifts).



> Hi everyone! I'm Mikau. Welcome to the story. ^.^
> 
> This story came about because I was bored and asked on Tumblr for people to send in prompts for me to work on so that I could still feel productive even while procrastinating on writing Chapter Thirty-Eight of Serendipity. This is the ninth prompt I received. It's from [Rafflesia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rafflesia). (Thank you very much for the prompt!)
> 
> Prompt: Hmm... something post-hm defeat where adrien is dealing with unhealthy coping mechanisms? Any adrien ship(s)
> 
> IMPORTANT: Before we get started, did you read the tags? If not, go read the tags. No, Adrien does not want to die, and he has no plans to die anytime soon. He’s just kind of having an existential crisis and macabre thoughts. It’s a relatively small part of the story, though. Mostly this is about healing and love and support and Adrien and Marinette being cute and sweet. I think it’s a life-affirming story.
> 
> I hope you enjoy it.

“Mec, are you sure you’re going to be okay?” Nino peered intently at Adrien, a deep v of apprehension carved into his brow.

“We don’t mind staying,” Luka assured, his expression no less worried than Nino’s. “It’s no trouble, Adrien. We’re happy to be here.”

“Guys,” Adrien sighed as he practically pushed them out the door. “Please. I haven’t had a minute to myself the past…” Three weeks, four days, six hours… “…like, _month_ ,” he huffed.

They hadn’t even left him alone to shower. Someone had come in every few minutes to make sure he hadn’t spaced out or had an episode and accidently drowned.

“ _Thank you_ ,” he stressed. “I really, really appreciate you all taking care of me, and I love you guys, but please get out of my apartment and leave me alone for a few hours.”

Nino and Luka exchanged nervous glances.

“Please,” Adrien reiterated. “I’m not catatonic anymore, my mood is fairly stable, I’m not a danger to myself or others, nothing is going to happen to me in your absence, and, if I need anything, Nino and Alya’s apartment is just downstairs. Plagg can go get help for me in less than five minutes.”

Luka frowned, clearly uncomfortable with the plan.

Nino bit his lip, visibly debating.

Adrien heaved a leaden sigh. “Guys, I need you to treat me at least a little bit like an adult, okay? Treating me like I’m helpless is bad for my self-esteem.”

Luka and Nino winced in tandem opening their mouths to offer reassurances and platitudes.

Adrien cut them off. “Look. Just come back this evening when it’s time to go to my therapy appointment. All right?”

Luka caved first, nodding and stepping forward to pull Adrien into a hug. “Yeah. You’re right. You’ve got this, and it’s time that we started proving that we believe in you.”

Nino followed suit, taking Adrien from Luka and squeezing him tight. “We know you can do this. We just worry because we love you, Adrien.” He pulled back to meet Adrien’s gaze. “You know I love you, right?”

Adrien gave a sheepish nod, a hint of a smile poking out around the corners of his mouth. “I love you guys too.”

“We’ll see you tonight,” Luka promised, ruffling Adrien’s hair as he turned to go. It sounded like Luka was trying to reassure himself more than anything.

The door closed behind his friends, and Adrien was alone for the first time since learning that his father was the villain who had hurt so many people Adrien cared about…who had hurt _Adrien_ many, many times during five long years spent fighting to thwart Papillon’s plans, stop him from destroying lives.

It was the first time Adrien had been alone since learning the truth about his mother who had given her own lifeforce in order to create a sentimonster to be her much-longed-for son.

It was Adrien’s first moment of true solitude since learning he wasn’t human.

He took a deep breath.

“I’m hungry,” he announced shakily to the empty apartment.

“You know where the kitchen is,” Plagg snickered. “While you’re in there, get me some Gouda.”

“Right.” Adrien blew out a breath, turning to the kitchen just to the left of the door in the open-concept apartment. “Right. I am nineteen years old. I can make myself a sandwich.”

“That’s the spirit!” Plagg cheered, floating along beside Adrien, keeping a careful eye on his charge while maintaining his usual aloof demeanor.

Adrien paused mid-way around the island in the center of the kitchen on his way to the fridge. “Am I actually nineteen, though?”

Internally, Plagg groaned. Externally, he replied in a carefree, unconcerned voice, “Of course you are.”

“But…if I wasn’t created until a few months before Maman disappeared…if I started out at age thirteen…doesn’t that mean I’m only…like, five or six?” Adrien cast a worried glance at his kwami, suddenly feeling very much like a helpless child in need of an adult.

But his father and Nathalie were in jail, and his mother was dead, so…

“Nope,” Plagg declared decidedly. “You’re nineteen. You’ve got nineteen years’ worth of memories, don’t you? And you’re far more competent than any five-year-old I’ve ever met. No one would consider you a five-year-old.”

Adrien nodded, latching onto the facts Plagg had given him. “Right. You’re right. I’m nineteen years old, and I’m capable of making a sandwich.”

He went over to the refrigerator and looked inside at the mustard, cheese, and butter. He then glanced at the fresh baguette on the counter that Marinette had just brought over that morning. Adrien thought about getting everything out and assembling a sandwich…but the very prospect left him feeling exhausted.

He closed his eyes and began to massage his forehead. “I am nineteen years old, and I do not have enough [spoons](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spoon_theory) to make a sandwich…and that’s okay. That’s totally valid. I don’t have to feel bad about that,” he coached himself, remembering what his therapist had taught him.

Plagg landed on Adrien’s shoulder, surveying the contents of the fridge. He pointed to the leftover meals Alya had assembled in Tupperware containers for Adrien. “Do you have enough spoons to heat up one of those?”

Adrien looked at the food and imagined taking the lid off, putting the dish in the microwave, setting the timer, getting out a spoon, taking the dish out to stir so that it heated evenly, putting it back in, pressing the button, stirring again, waiting for the food to cool so that he didn’t burn himself because that was just absolutely pathetic…

Tears beaded at the corners of his eyes as his stomach roiled, making him feel sick with dread and exhaustion. Using the microwave felt overwhelming.

“No,” he responded in a small, strained voice. “…I should have had them feed me before I kicked them out.”

“Want me to go get them?” Plagg offered with none of the usual fuss or sarcasm. “Nino’s just downstairs, and I bet Luka hasn’t even left the building yet.”

“No,” Adrien groaned. “I just told them to treat me like an adult. I can’t call them back five minutes later because I’m too damaged to feed myself.”

“It’s okay to ask for help, Adrien,” Plagg reminded kindly, quoting Dr. Katsuragi.

 _“I don’t deserve help,”_ Adrien thought but did not voice.

Plagg’s toxic green eyes narrowed as if in response to Adrien’s uncharitable thoughts.

“I know,” Adrien grumbled in answer. “I just…not for the next few hours, okay? For the past month, I’ve hardly done anything without someone’s help. I didn’t do anything to help organize Mom’s funeral, and Nathalie dealt with all the legal stuff, and my friends helped me get an apartment, and they moved me in and have been feeding me and making sure I sleep and bathe and change clothes and…I just need to be able to do something on my own for, like, four hours, you know?”

Plagg stared back at him hard for a moment and then nodded.

Adrien sighed, shoulders slumping as he turned back to the fridge and grabbed one of the meal-replacement shakes Marinette had gotten him for days when he couldn’t stomach solid food.

He went over to the long, white couch that he really needed to get rid of and sat facing the wall of windows that reminded him equal parts painfully and comfortingly of his old bedroom.

He screwed off the bottle’s cap and took a drink of the chocolate-flavored liquid, no longer noticing the distinct aftertaste that had bothered him so much a few weeks before when the shakes were pretty much the entirety of his diet.

“…Do you think I even _need_ to eat?” Adrien wondered dismally. “It’s just something that I’ve always done, but…I wonder if I even need to.”

“Kid, if you feel hungry, you should eat,” Plagg advised, giving his chosen a wary look. “Trust me. I’m the ancient embodiment of the chaotic forces of the universe. Not easily destructible, but when I’m hungry, I eat. You should too.”

Adrien nodded, taking another unenthusiastic sip of his shake. “Yeah. I guess it would kind of suck to go around hungry all the time, even if I didn’t die from not eating. I was just kind of thinking that it’s a waste of time, money, and energy feeding me if I don’t actually need to eat, but…” He shook his head. “Just something I was thinking about, whether sentimonsters can starve. Since I’m not human, maybe I don’t need to do a lot of things that humans do. Maybe I—”

“—Adrien, do I need to go tell Marinette you’re having morose thoughts again?” Plagg subtly threatened.

Adrien shivered at the mental image of Marinette upset, distressed, and wanting to shake him.

“Please don’t,” he whimpered. “I don’t want to stress her out. She’s worried enough about me as it is. I’m not going to purposely stop eating. I was just thinking about whether or not I’d die if I did.”

A memory jumped out at him from nowhere: right after the police had taken Gabriel and Nathalie into custody and Ladybug, Carapace, Rena Rouge, and Chat Noir headed down into the basement where Nathalie said Émilie’s body was being kept, where Gabriel said they kept the object containing the amok that gave Adrien life.

After staring at his mother’s still form for who knows how long, he took the black, star-shaped brooch pinned to Émilie’s lapel and stared at it.

Part of him didn’t want to believe the cruel words his father had shouted at him. Adrien wasn’t real. Émilie had died because of him. Everything was his fault.

Part of him wanted to smash the brooch his father said held his amok and prove once and for all that it was a lie, he was human.

A bigger part of him knew the truth. His father had never loved him because he wasn’t really his father’s son. He was a life-sized doll for his mother to play with and dress up as a child.

“Adrien?” Ladybug—or rather, Marinette, as he had learned before the dust of the final battle had settled—called to him tentatively.

He turned and saw the horror-fear-worry on her face. Not horrified or afraid of _him_ but _for_ him.

Ninopace put a hand on his shoulder, speaking softly and kindly. “Better put that somewhere safe, yeah?”

Chadrien looked down at the brooch. “I think…someone else might need to hold onto this….” He took a slow inhale. “…I might break it.”

“It’ll be okay,” Alya Rouge chuckled, smiling encouragingly. “You’re not a klutz like our fearless leader over here.”

“Hey,” Maribug hissed.

Chadrien looked up and shook his head sadly. “No. I meant…like…” His voice fell to a mumble in the cavernous room. “…not on accident.”

The team collectively gasped.

Nino reacted first, taking Adrien by the cheeks and making him look his best friend in the eye. “Hey, Mec. No. Don’t. You can’t—I don’t—”

“—I don’t want to die,” Adrien hastily explained, averting his gaze. “I just…I’m not sure that I have any right to exist, so…”

Marinette stepped in, carefully taking the pendant away from him and placing it in the interdimensional pocket of her yo-yo like it were something delicate and precious.

“Adrien,” she called, tone firm and resolute.

He looked up at her questioningly, and his heart broke at the sheer amount of hurt in her eyes.

“It doesn’t matter how you came into being,” she tried to convince him through the tears building in her voice. “You exist.”

Nino stepped back so that Marinette could cup Adrien’s cheeks and make him focus on her.

“You _exist_ ,” she stressed, “in a very, very meaningful way. Your mind thinks, your heart beats, your lungs breathe…you smile, you laugh, you cry…you _feel_ things, Adrien. You have emotions. I don’t care what Papillon said,” she tried to drill it into him. “You experience joy and grief and friendship and sadness and anger and love. I’m convinced that you’ve felt more in the past six years than Gabriel Agreste has his entire life. He was dead wrong when he told you you weren’t real.”

She paused to collect herself, her intent gaze boring into Adrien. “You’re real to _me_ , Adrien.”

Gently she pressed her lips to his, there and gone before he had time to properly register the pressure or the sensation left behind.

“We all love you,” she swore, but he wasn’t sure if that had anything to do with her kissing him or if that were just a platonic love that all three of his friends shared in equally.

Had the kiss been a pity kiss?

“We love you, and we want you to be happy,” Marinette whispered, drawing him into a tight hug which Alya and Nino soon joined, holding Adrien together as everything else, even his sense of self, crumbled around him.

“You’re real,” Marinette repeated. “You exist, and that’s enough to justify your continued existence…so stay with us, Adrien,” she begged.

His hands were tied. How could he deny her anything?

Plagg floated up and nuzzled Adrien’s cheek, yanking him back to the present.

“Stop thinking so hard, Kitten,” Plagg purred in an attempt to sooth. “Just listen to your body when it tries to tell you what it wants. If you’re hungry, eat. If you’re tired, sleep. If you feel gross, take a shower and change clothes. If you’re thirsty, drink water. Don’t bother philosophizing about what you need to survive and focus on what your body says it wants in order for you to feel functional.”

Adrien breathed out a long sigh, leaning into his friend’s touch. “…Thanks, Plagg. Remind me again, please, the next time I forget, okay?”

“On it,” Plagg assured.

Adrien was having one of his bad days.

It was the one-month anniversary of his life toppling around his ears, and he just couldn’t summon the energy to get out of bed by himself.

Thankfully, Nino would be over soon to see to it that Adrien was up and dressed and fed and approximating the behavior of a functional adult.

Until then, Adrien lay in bed feeling lost, feeling _his_ loss: the loss of his family, the loss of identity, loss of humanity, loss of hope, loss of love.

How could he honestly still hope that Marinette would fall in love with him now? He couldn’t. She hadn’t fallen for him when he was a cool superhero. She hadn’t taken notice of him when he was literally a supermodel. How could she develop feelings for an unnatural, inhuman being who couldn’t function without someone else’s gentle prodding, who couldn’t smile and laugh freely anymore?

Adrien felt like a waste of space, a burden, a downer. He knew his friends loved him and wanted him around, but he couldn’t help but think that the person they loved was the _old_ Adrien. They wanted the person he was back. They didn’t want a depressed and broken sentimonster. They were waiting for him to get better.

He wasn’t sure he was going to get better, and he was living in fear of them figuring that out.

The only thing he had left to lose was his friends, and he didn’t know what would become of him if they abandoned him too.

There was a light tap on his bedroom door, rousing him from his thoughts.

He frowned.

Usually Nino just barged on in and belly-flopped onto the bed, wrapping his arms around Adrien, ruffling his hair and tickling him, rolling around until Adrien was laughing so hard he cried.

Moments like that made him feel almost normal again, and he really needed a wakeup call like that today.

Instead, Marinette timidly peeked around his door, hesitantly stepping into his room. “Hey, there. Good morning, Sleepyhead. Time to get up.”

Adrien gave a yip of surprise, pulling the cover up over his head so that she wouldn’t see him.

He hadn’t showered since the day before, and he was sure that his hair was greasy and that he smelled of sweat. He hadn’t brushed his teeth yet.

And there was Marinette standing in his bedroom, beautiful and unattainable in her pastel pink skirt embroidered with her signature flowers, black leggings, black baby doll top, and pink ballet flats.

Adrien felt miserable.

“Where’s Nino? What are you doing here?” he demanded in a bit of a whine.

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he mentally smacked himself and amended, “Sorry. Good morning, Marinette. You look really pretty today.”

Not like she needed him to tell her that and make her uncomfortable.

Adrien burrowed even deeper into the covers.

“Thank you,” she giggled with genuine delight in her voice, and that made him smile even as his heart ached.

He froze as the bed shifted under her weight.

She took a long inhale and let it out slowly. “Nino…couldn’t come today,” she explained. “He would have called or texted, but it was early, and he didn’t want to disturb you. He knows you don’t sleep well, so…”

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Adrien whispered, icy fear walking its fingers up his spine.

“It’s Otis, Alya’s dad,” Marinette sighed, sounding like she’d been up all night. “They got the results of his biopsy back, and it’s not good. It’s really, really not good.”

Adrien pulled down the covers and sat up to stare at her as she wiped away a tear.

“Marinette, what are you doing here? You should be with Alya,” he insisted.

She shook her head and smiled, kind as ever. “No. It’s a family thing. I’d be intruding.”

“You’re like her sister,” he argued.

“She’s with her blood sisters. Besides, Nino’s with her, so I know I don’t need to worry. Right now is family time. I’ll go over later tonight with some pasta and ice cream and be with her then. Right now, _you_ are my primary concern.” She winked, giving his nose a playful boop.

He went cross-eyed looking at her finger and blushed at the contact.

All of the sudden, he remembered the state he was in and wilted in shame. He covered his face with his hands, turning away. “I’m so sorry. I’m a mess. I haven’t showered yet. I’m sorry. I just couldn’t get out of bed. I didn’t know _you_ were coming. I just—”

“—Hey,” she called sympathetically, carefully taking his hands away from his face and holding them in her own soft palms. She squeezed his hands gently, giving him a warm, tender smile. “It’s okay, Chaton. It’s just me.”

He looked at her with a pained expression. “It _is_ you, and that’s the problem. I know I’m not a real man, Marinette, but I still have some version of a man’s pride, and it hurts for you of all people to see me looking so pathetic.”

“You’re not pathetic,” she breathed, reaching up to stroke his hair-cheek-jaw as she gazed at him with nothing but compassion and affection. “Everyone has bad days, Adrien. _I_ have plenty of bad days, and you, today, as you are right now, look a heck of a lot better than some people on their best days. You may be feeling rough, but you are definitely still a stud, Beau Gosse.”

He could feel heat rising at the back of his neck and across the bridge of his nose. He couldn’t take the intensity of her gaze, but he also couldn’t look away from the sincerity in those deep blue pools. “O-Oh?”

She nodded, a rosy blush dusting her own cheeks as she kept smiling. “Yeah. And as for you being a quote-unquote ‘real man’, I don’t know what your definition is, Adrien, but you check all of my boxes.”

Suddenly, the realization that he was sitting on a bed with an extremely attractive girl who maybe thought that he was attractive too was at the forefront of his mind.

Adrien gulped. “Marinette, I…”

“Hm?” She leaned in, eyes never leaving his.

He was on the cusp of confessing his love once more when it struck him how silly that would be. What was she supposed to say in response? “I know”? “Thank you”? “I’m sorry, but I don’t see any future with a guy who can’t even make a sandwich for himself and isn’t human in the first place”?

The colour faded from his face as he averted his gaze and mumbled, “Why are you here? Why are you doing this? What’s the point?”

“Adrien,” she cooed sweetly. “I’m your friend, and I care about you so, so much.”

“You care about the person I used to be,” he finally gave voice to the fear. “How could anyone care about who I am right now?”

“Adrien,” she repeated more firmly, taking his cheeks in her hands. “There’s absolutely no difference. You’re the same now as you were a month ago.”

He shook his head, arguing, “A month ago, I wasn’t a depressed heap of uselessness. A month ago, I was a human being. Please stop lying to me, Marinette. Anyone can see the difference, and it hurts when you lie about it,” he pleaded.

“I’m _not_ lying to you,” she insisted, pain and anger flashing in her eyes but not coming out in her tone. Her voice remained gentle and loving. “There’s no difference. You’re the same in all the ways that matter, Adrien. Your depression isn’t _you_. Maybe that’s all you can see right now because things seem so bleak, but you. Are not. Your depression,” she stressed, enunciating the words in an effort to get through to him.

He frowned, searching her eyes hopefully, like he wanted to believe her.

Seeing that he was receptive, she kept talking, kept pushing. “You are exactly the same person now as you were before. You’re still my precious partner. You’re still one of my best friends. You’re funny and sweet and compassionate and loyal and kind, Adrien. You’re loving, and you’re good, and you’re brave. What happened a month ago, learning the truth about your family and how you were born doesn’t change any of that. It doesn’t take any of that away from you. You’re still you. Finding out what all that entailed didn’t change who you are on a fundamental level. You’ve been you this whole time. Maybe you don’t feel like you now, but you will again with time, and I’m going to see you through this rough patch because I love you. I love you today, and I loved you a month ago, and I’m positive I’m going to keep loving you in the future too. So _that’s_ the point,” she concluded in a huff.

“ _That’s_ what I’m doing here. _That’s_ why I’m going to make sure you get your butt out of bed, shower, and eat something because I know I always feel like crap when I don’t do those things, so I don’t imagine you’ll feel very good about yourself until you do either.”

She stared at him expectantly.

He leaned in, pulling her into a hug as he sniffled, “Thanks. I love you, My Lady.”

“Love you too, Chaton,” she cooed, nuzzling his hair. “Do you think you can get up and shower and get dressed while I make your breakfast, or do you need some help?”

Adrien definitely needed help, but it wasn’t like he was ready to admit that to the woman he loved.

“I’ll manage,” he assured. “Maybe Tikki and Plagg can supervise and come get you if I need anything?”

“Sounds like a plan.” She brushed her lips against the top of his head and pulled back with a smile.

It gave him the strength he needed to get up and fumble through his morning routine.

Adrien stared down at the envelope that held his fate.

Nino had brought it over that morning, and Adrien still hadn’t opened it.

He couldn’t. It was just too important, too scary. The contents of that envelope determined his self-worth, his future.

“Maybe you should call someone to be here with you when you open it,” Plagg suggested, bringing over Adrien’s phone and setting it on the counter next to the envelope.

“Yeah. If the test results aren’t good, I’m going to be a wreck,” Adrien admitted, picking up the phone and pausing on his contacts screen.

There was only one person he wanted by his side for this, but he was afraid of how she would react, how she would treat him afterwards.

Adrien took a deep breath and tapped on Marinette’s number.

“Adrien. Hey. What’s up?” she answered a little out of breath, as if she heard her phone ring and ran for it, launching herself at it in her haste to pick up.

“Hi. Um…so… Are you busy?” he got up the nerve to ask.

“No. I was just sketching,” she assured as if her work held little importance. “Why? What do you need?”

He swallowed. “Can you come over? A couple weeks ago I—You know Nino’s mom’s a brain surgeon, right?”

She blinked at the odd path the conversation was taking. “Yeah?”

“Well, a couple weeks ago, I realized that I’ve never been to, like, a regular doctor. I’ve only ever been seen by doctors my fa—” His voice caught on the word, and he had to take a breath and try again. “…doctors my father employed, so I was wondering if that was because maybe there was something…I don’t know…not _normal_ about me that they didn’t want regular doctors finding out, but… A couple weeks ago, I spoke to Amina and asked if she and some of her other doctor friends could examine me and let me know if they found anything…uh…odd.”

“What did they find out?” Marinette was almost afraid to ask, voice brittle, breathless, and flimsy.

“Nino brought over the summary Amina wrote up for me this morning, but I haven’t had the heart to look at it yet,” he sighed. “Do you think you could come over and maybe hold my hand while I read it? I just…I’m…”

“Hey, no worries,” she cooed soothingly. “I’ll suit up and be right over. Give me ten minutes, okay?”

“Thanks, Marinette,” he breathed in relief, already beginning to feel better.

She made it to his apartment with a whole minute to spare.

They made mint tea and took it over to the couch where the envelope with the test results was lying inconspicuously on the coffee table.

They sat, and Marinette wrapped an arm around him so that they were pressed together from shoulder to knee.

Adrien picked up the envelope with trembling fingers and took a deep breath.

“Wait!” she cried just as he started to open it, causing his head to snap to look at her in alarm.

She cleared her throat, blushing sheepishly. “Sorry. I just… There’s something I need to tell you before you open that.”

He quirked an eyebrow, waiting patiently.

She looked him right in the eye and said the words she’d been struggling to voice for six years. “Adrien, I love you.”

He gave her a weak smile and replied, “Thanks, Marinette. I love you too, and I appreciate you staying by my side. …I’m really lucky to have your friendship.”

She shook her head vehemently when she realized he hadn’t understood. “No. That’s not what I mean. I mean, thank you, and I feel _that_ way about you too, but… Adrien, I was trying to tell you I’m _in love_ with you.”

His eyes rounded comically, and his mouth dropped open. “I… You…what?”

“I’m in love with you,” she repeated with more confidence. “First with Adrien and then with Chat Noir. It was never a good time to say anything,” she sighed, looking down at their knees. “I didn’t want to mess up my friendship with Adrien, and, then, by the time I realized I had developed feelings for Chat Noir, I thought Chat Noir was already over Ladybug, and it wasn’t like we could reveal our identities and date while Papillon was at large, so…I never said anything, but I’ve loved you pretty much as long as I’ve known you.”

She looked back up at him as he stared speechlessly, dozens of blips of emotions flashing across his face like a cyclone.

“I was really thrilled when we found out each other’s identities,” she confessed while she was at it. “It was a huge relief to learn that the boys I adored were one and the same.”

“I felt the same way about Ladybug and Marinette,” he finally found the words to reply, a fragile smile taking form on his lips. “But…how can you still say you love me after…after everything?”

She shook her head, reaching up to stroke his cheek with her knuckle. “You need to be kinder to yourself, Chaton. Your father’s actions have nothing to do with who you are as a person. How you came into being doesn’t have anything to do with the person you’ve become.”

She pointed to the envelope. “Whatever those test results say, that has no bearing on how I feel about _you_. All of this—your parents, the sentimonster thing—those are facts about you, but they are not who you are. I love who you are, and nothing about that person has changed…. I just needed you to know that before you opened the envelope. I need you to know that my love isn’t conditional.”

Their eyes met, and they incrementally started to lean in.

“I don’t care if you’re not ‘human’ in the conventional sense,” she whispered. “You’re the best person I know, Adrien, and I’m going to keep loving you no matter what those tests reveal.”

“I really needed that,” he chuckled against her lips, luxuriating in the warmth of her mouth, the feel of her breath, the smell of her bodywash, the comforting weight of her hands on his back.

For the first time, he was finally able to believe that she loved him.

The slow, languid exploration of tongues and hands gradually came to an end. They pulled back and looked at each other, all smiles and wonder.

“Will you marry me?” Marinette sighed happily, thoughts still a blur.

Adrien’s eyes went wide in surprise for an instant, but then he broke out in a laugh. “Yes! Yes, absolutely, but I think we should probably date for a bit and maybe finish school first.”

“Oh my gosh,” Marinette groaned, straightening up to bury her face in her hands. “I cannot believe I just proposed to you like that. I am a mess. Please ignore me.”

“No,” Adrien chuckled, pulling her into his arms and nuzzling her ear. “This is the happiest day of my life. No takebacks.”

“I am so embarrassed,” Marinette wailed. “I want to die. Who just proposes after a first kiss like that?”

“My Lady, I said _yes_ ,” Adrien reminded. “And that was far from our first kiss.”

“No,” Marinette pouted. “That’s the one I’m counting. And I don’t care if you said yes. That was _not_ how I wanted to propose to you.”

He held her tighter. “Still no takebacks, but I’ll give you a do-over in a couple years. How about that? You can propose properly then.”

“…All right,” she grumbled, finally relenting. She paused and looked up at him with sincerity. “You’ll go out with me, though?”

He nodded, unable to contain a wide, adoring smile. “It’s what I’ve always wanted.”

“Good,” she sighed in relief, leaning in to kiss him again.

Suddenly, she pulled back, eyes wide. “Oh my gosh! We almost forgot!” She scanned their surroundings for the envelope and, spotting it, scooped it up off of the floor where it had fallen during their first make-out session.

Adrien swallowed hard. “Could you open it, please?”

She scooted in close so that their sides were pressed to one another once more and carefully tore open the seal.

Pulling out the documents, she set the test results down on the coffee table and separated out Dr. Lahiffe’s summary.

“DNA analysis reveals…that you are biologically the son of Gabriel and Émilie Agreste,” she breathed, looking up at him.

His eyes were glistening with tears, a dazed smile on his lips as he urged, “Keep reading. What else does it say?”

Marinette skimmed the page. “No abnormalities. You are, apparently, a healthy, normal, human male…who should have no difficulty siring offspring.”

Adrien’s whole face went red as he tugged on his shirt collar and looked away. “I may have specifically asked about fertility because I really want kids, and I know _you_ really want kids, so…” He whipped around to face her, expression horrified. “But not right now, of course! I mean…you know…in the future…if I ever managed to make you fall in love with me.”

There was a part of Marinette’s brain that thought right now was a wonderful time for babies, but, fortunately, her higher brain functions won out.

“Well, congratulations.” She smiled coyly. “You’ve succeeded in making me fall in love with you, and I would be very interested in putting your fertility to the test once we’re out of school and married.”

Adrien’s blush spread down his neck to the rest of his body, and he covered his face with his hands, squeaking out an embarrassed, “Awesome. …So…does the report say anything else?”

Marinette looked back at the paper and laughed. “Your vitamin D levels are kind of low. Amina recommends taking a supplement.”

Adrien burst out laughing. “My-My…vitamin D levels…are l-l-low?”

“Yep,” Marinette snickered, ruffling his hair. “I’ll pick some up the next time I’m at the store. Other than that, it looks like you’re a boring, regular-old human being.”

“We should throw a party,” Adrien snorted, taking Amina’s summary from Marinette and looking it over. “A ‘Congrats! You’re normal!’ party.”

His smile faltered as a thought occurred to him. “…Do you think Father was lying about me being a sentimonster?” He searched her face for answers.

She pursed her lips and took a deep breath. “Honestly? I don’t know. It could be that the magic is just that powerful that it was able to make a regular human being, but…I don’t know. I don’t want to take any chances. I’ll continue keeping your object safe, but I think maybe you should take the test results to heart and stop worrying about it.”

She looked him in the eye and stressed, “Don’t let that man ruin any more of your life than he already has. Don’t let him take anything else from you, okay? Just…find a way to be happy.”

He reached up to stroke her face, assuring, “I am happy.”

He winced as his words didn’t ring true. “Okay. Not all the time, but…I’m getting there. It’s getting easier to get up and take care of myself and hold my head high. I’m getting there…” he assured, “and today really helped. Knowing you would have loved me even if I wasn’t normal and then having those test results say that I was…I needed that. I’ve still got a lot of crap to unpack and sort through in therapy, but…today really helped give me the strength to keep fighting.”

He leaned in, taking her lips in a soft, unhurried kiss.

“Thank you, Marinette,” he whispered, giving her a soft, affectionate look.

“Always,” she promised…and then her smile morphed into an impish grin. “Well, now that that’s settled, I guess the first thing we should focus on is getting your vitamin D levels up.”

“Seriously?” he cackled, relieved and amused that _that_ was the one thing wrong with him.

“Absolutely,” she insisted. “As your girlfriend, I demand that you come take a walk with me. The sunshine and fresh air will do you some good.”

He beamed at her as she bounced up to her feet. “I love you,” he sighed.

“Love you too, Chaton. Now get your butt in gear. Vitamin deficiencies are serious business. Up.” She held out her hand to him, grinning from ear to ear.

The

End

**Author's Note:**

> See? I told you it had a happy ending. On one hand, Marinette would totally propose to Adrien after their first real kiss, and he would totally say yes. On the other hand...these two are such dorks. Did you have a favourite part or a favourite line?
> 
> Has anyone else ever not had enough spoons (for an explanation of the concept of "spoons", see the References section below for the link) to operate a microwave before, or is that just me? ^.^; I'm always so nervous about putting autobiographical stuff about mental health struggles in my work because I'm always afraid someone is going to say, "Wow. That's dumb. Why would Adrien do that? That's really pathetic". I often wonder if my life experiences are completely bizarre or if there are other people out there who have had issues similar to my own. For your sake, I hope none of you have ever been too low energy (mentally/physically/emotionally) to heat up food for yourself. 
> 
> I occasionally struggle with depression, and every year when it gets cold and dark, I struggle with Seasonal Affective Disorder. It's like I have zero energy, and everything I do takes ten times as much effort as it does when I'm feeling well. By the time I make sure my dog-children have food, water, and meds for the day and put in my time at work (I work at a law firm, so it's typically high-stress), I've pretty much used up my mental, physical, and emotional energy (my "spoons") for the day. I hope I was able to get across what a struggle doing simple tasks can be when you're dealing with mental illness. With the scene of Adrien not having enough spoons to use the microwave, I tried to break the task down into microtasks, each of which takes energy to perform, hopefully illustrating what a labour that "simple" task can be for someone struggling with mental health. Sometimes, when I'm running on empty, just the thought of doing a task fills me with dread and seems hopelessly overwhelming. I hope I was able to convey that. I'm kind of worried the scene comes off as unrelatable or dumb. On really bad days, I've eaten food cold before because I didn't have enough spoons to use the microwave. I hope I was able to illustrate kind of what it's like.
> 
> A quick translation note: "Beau Gosse" is what Marinette calls Adrien in the voicemail she accidentally leaves on his phone in L'Imposteur/Copy Cat. It means "handsome guy/boy". "Gosse" is kind of a slangy word for "kid", but "beau gosse" refers to a young man who is handsome/sexy.
> 
> Also "mec" (used by Nino) is a kind of slangy word for mate/dude/guy. It's informal. For example: "That mec stole my parking spot!" or "Hey, Mec. What's up?" Nino uses it the most in the show, but Adrien has said it a couple times.
> 
> I have Lahiffe family headcanons. I'm torn between "Amina" and "Amira" for Mrs. Lahiffe's first name, but she's a brain surgeon originally from Morocco, and she wears the prettiest head scarves. She looks best in forest green.
> 
> I also have thoughts about the sentimonster Adrien theory. On one hand, no, absolutely not. Leave the poor boy alone. He's been through enough already. Do not hurt that sweet, innocent child. On the other hand, yeah, that makes absolute sense to me. If Émilie is in a coma because of using the Peacock Miraculous, but sentimonsters and akuma only started showing up after her "disappearance", then it would make sense that she used the Miraculous to make a sentimonster child. Gabriel's treatment of Adrien also makes more sense (well, I mean, there are just horrible parents out there, but...) because he doesn't view Adrien as his actual child. Him treating Adrien like an object/possession makes more sense.
> 
> Some people don't think sentimonster Adrien is possible because Adrien and Chloé were friends before Adrien started attending school. I think there are two possibilities. Do we know how long Adrien and Chloé have been friends? I don't remember it being explicitly stated that they've been friends since they were in diapers. Maybe they've only known each other for a year or two. If it /has/ been established that they've been friends since they were born, then my alternate theory is that there was, at some point, an original Adrien who was Émilie and Gabriel's son. Something happened to him a year or two prior to the start of the show, and Émilie used the Peacock Miraculous to replace her dead son.
> 
> Those are my thoughts anyway. I hope I'm wrong and Adrien is a completely normal child and he never finds out about his mother or Papillon or anything. Just let the boy be happy and oblivious, am I right?
> 
> Anyway! I hope you enjoyed the story. Thank you very much for reading. I'll be back tomorrow (Saturday, 10/10/2020) with a Marichat piece called No Vacancy. Take care!
> 
> References:  
> Spoons: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spoon_theory


End file.
